


Weird Sex

by septiplier500



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Anal Fisting, Butt Plugs, Come play, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 07:52:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8615767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septiplier500/pseuds/septiplier500
Summary: 'Dick on dick sex wasn’t as much of an adjustment as he’d originally assumed, but going from giving his first blowjob to being an old hat at fisting in less time than it had taken him to beat Vanish seemed like a pretty big leap of skill.' 
Jack loves being fisted, and Mark loves obliging him.





	

Mark’s not sure how they got here, to be honest. Dick on dick sex wasn’t as much of an adjustment as he’d originally assumed, but going from giving his first blowjob to being an old hat at fisting in less time than it had taken him to beat Vanish seemed like a pretty big leap of skill.

It’s Jack’s fault, probably. Ever since he’d moved in over the summer, sick of long flights and short visits, they’d been banging like bunnies. And Jack always had all these crazy ideas for sex – _if I annoy the neighbors so much then let’s get some gags, Mark_ ; _put on this collar and_ bark _for me, Mark_ ; _the moon’s so big tonight, let’s fuck in the pool, Mark_ – though it was probably due to years of isolation and avid porn watching. Mark liked getting creative in bed too, but Jack took it to a whole new level of weird sometimes.

Fisting had been kind of obvious though. Mark had a thick dick, and Jack had a hard time taking him in sometimes without ridiculously unsexy amounts of lube. It was the downside of dating a guy with a thigh gap, everything was so small and tight that Mark felt like a big, blundering _douche_ , trying not to break Jack’s tiny little bird bones. Jack had suggested more fingering before fucking because it would stretch him out better, and Mark’s a _greedy_ little shit: slipping him a fourth finger when Jack was wriggling and groaning was an unavoidable impulse. And when Jack had just whined for _more_ , well… Mark’s a good, loyal boyfriend. You gotta give the ol’ ball and chain what they want, keep ‘em _happy_ , y'know?

As easy as four fingers went, actual fisting was much more complicated. Jack kept begging for it, rolling his hips to encourage Mark to hurry up, but maneuvering the top of his hand deeper against the tight, grasping grip of Jack’s asshole was a lot like getting into a sock two sizes too small. Which wasn’t a sexy analogy, but an accurate one. All the warm mess of lube in the world wouldn’t speed up the process.

Tucking his thumb in got easier over time, as Jack’s body learned the width of Mark’s hand by sense memory. It was the widest point of Mark’s hand, just beneath the base of his thumb, that proved a legitimate challenge. Jack was always on the verge of tears by then, gripping the sheets or his cock or Mark’s bicep and growl-hissing “it burns so _fuckin’ good_ ,” and Mark had to fight down the urge to his shove his way in by _force_ just to hear Jack scream for him. Jack would take it, Mark _knew_ he would, and would probably come for the hard press of knuckles on his prostate, but Mark was a responsible boyfriend. Mostly.

They learned to take their time, Mark dipping the top of his hand into Jack over and over until his asshole was lube-shiny and flushed red, gaping whenever Mark slid his fingers free. He’d work Jack like that for half an hour, ignoring all of Jack’s wretched pleading for more, faster, _harder_ , goddamnit. Mark compensated by saying some of the filthiest shit he could think of, purring about Jack being open and used, being so fucking greedy for needing an entire fist up his ass, being the hottest slut Mark had ever seen. Jack would always watch him, slack-mouthed and glossy-eyed, like Mark was a god. Which was an ego boost Mark didn’t even _try_ to buck out of.

When Jack’s ass finally took his hand to the wrist, Mark always felt a surge of possessive pride. He’d curl his fingers, forming a solid fist, and rock his hand back and forth while Jack sobbed for him, thighs thrown wide, whimpering helplessly when Mark pressed his free hand on Jack’s stomach to make him really feel how full he was inside. If Mark could reach, they’d kiss, Jack breathing Mark in like he couldn’t get oxygen otherwise, and Mark would purr that he was good, so fucking good, to take Mark’s whole hand like that.

Sometimes, he’d let Jack come just like that, their hands meeting over his dick, Mark keeping the rhythm tortuously slow so Jack would beg him some more. Sometimes, Mark would shift around so he could push his dick in Jack’s slack mouth, choke him a little while he fucked his insides raw. Sometimes he’d blow Jack, keeping his other hand on Jack’s belly to keep him from thrusting and to agonize him with how fucking full he was. Other times, he’d only let Jack come after he’d pulled his fist free and pushed it back in a few times, feeling Jack’s asshole flutter against the unrelenting stretch while the man himself smothered his yells with a pillow.

Fucking Jack after fisting him was always the best. His body was so hot, swollen, and pliant, still shuddering after an orgasm or after the denial of an orgasm; Mark could slide in with easy, gliding on body-warmed lube, his cock clutched by muscles too sore to resist. Jack was always a complete mess at that point, grabbing at any part of Mark he could reach, body so sensitive all Mark had to do was catch one of his nipples between his teeth and Jack would shout for him. He could fuck him hard, and sometimes he did, but usually he took his time, enjoying Jack being boneless and dazed beneath him.

“ _Jesus_ , Mark,” Jack breathes after Mark comes, the ejaculate starting to dribble out of him immediately as Mark pulls out. Mark glances down and sees Jack futilely trying to clench to keep from making a mess of the bedsheets, or maybe because he just likes to have Mark’s jizz inside him, but he’s too loose to accomplish it.

“Messy little bitch,” Mark says in a fond voice that’s way to affectionate for the phrase choice. He sprawls out at Jack’s side and reaches down, skimming his fingertips through his own leaking come.

Jack exhales like Mark’s punched him. “Push it back in me,” he blurts, fresh blush burning over the flush he’d already worked up during sex.

Mark sits up on an elbow. “What?” he asks, nose wrinkling. Even though he’s already playing with the stuff, rubbing it into the loosely puckered rim of Jack’s asshole – and when the _fuck_ did _that_ become normal?

“I don’t feel like getting’ back up t'clean up,” Jack says, half-whining, half-reasonable. He opens his thighs a little more, wincing briefly for it. “Push it back in and gimme one a’ th’ plugs from the drawer on yer side a’ th’ bed.”

Mark laughs, he can’t help it. “You’re so fucking gross, Jack,” he says, kissing the scruff of Jack’s beard… but he dips his fingers, pushing some of the marbled mess of come and lube back into Jack’s ass, half-turning and reaching with his free hand for the bedside table.

“Fuck,” Jack groans, head tilting back as Mark fits the plug into his ass, abused muscles twitching uselessly while Mark settles it into place. “Fuck, that feels _weird_ ,” he crows, face screwing up as he laughs.

“You told me to do it!” Mark laughs.

“Yeah, no, it’s good. Th’ _good_ kinda weird,” Jack says, sobering up as he settles his head back on the pillow. “Sticky weird.”

“You’re gonna regret this in the morning,” Mark warns him, grabbing some damp napkins from the plastic case on the bedside table. They’re as normal as everything else about his sex life now, the sharp lemon smell of them as familiar as the warmth of Jack’s lips on his ear. He goes through several cleaning off his hands and his cock, wiping up between Jack’s thighs to get anything he’d missed before. “Lemony fresh,” he drawls, like he always does, but Jack laughs like it’s the first time and cuddles into him.

It’s _definitely_ Jack’s fault, Mark reflects as he gets the comforter up over them and accepts Jack’s fidgeting burrowing into his side. But Mark’s glad.

**Author's Note:**

> Rebloggable version on Tumblr: http://septiplier500.tumblr.com/post/153345400242/weird-sex (Maybe give my blog a look and consider following, eh?)
> 
> If you liked this fic, feel free to toss me a prompt on Tumblr!


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